Bedroom Redo

It’s finished! It’s done! Completed! Accomplished! Achieved! The procrastinators (Television Man and I) united and we got it done!

I had a slight meltdown when the paint color hit the walls. It is SUPER dark – darker than I even expected it to be – but I think with all of the new bright accessories it looks good.

What do you think? Too dark? Too much stuff? I’m still debating all of it but I think I really like it.

Thoughts

First things first….thank you all so much for your comments and e-mails, I have a lot of responding to do. I can tell there have been some people thinking about me and praying for me because the past two days have been really good.

Ok….Leigh’s random thoughts of the day. (And let me warn you ahead of time, they are DEEP today. Sarcasm people, sarcasm.)

(Also, these are totally numbered because I am way too lazy to make coherent paragraphs that tie together.)

(I enjoy the parenthesis.)

1. Last night….Real Housewives overload! Does anyone else have a sick obsession with this show? So unbelievably trashy and yet I just can’t. stop. watching. Where do they FIND those people?!

2. I think I like the ‘Tinkerbell’ movies more than my small person. Seriously, shouldn’t life be more like Pixie Hollow??? Your job is to paint ladybugs or make flowers bloom – could that be any more perfect? I am 28 years old and I sit with Tootsie and try to decide what my “fairy talent” would be. Is there a napping talent fairy? Cause I would totally rock at that one.

3. My daughter is currently walking around the house with her Halloween bucket, knocking on cabinet doors saying “Trick or Treat tower”. I have NO idea.

4. The Television Man and I are going to paint our bedroom this weekend. That’s right, we’ve only had paint chips on our wall for a couple of months. Procrastinators UNITE! Tomorrow.

5. We’re going to paint it a dark poop brown. I hope it looks awesome, not horrible. I’ll post some pictures after we get it all finished. There are also new curtain rods to hang. Let’s all just say a little prayer right now that it all goes well. Sweet Television Man is about as handy as a foot. He’s wonderful at a LOT of things but if it includes a drill, well…..that’s an interesting story.

6. I’m slightly terrified that this weekend will end up in divorce. We’re great together unless there are paintbrushes involved. Seriously y’all….pray.

7. Last, but certainly not least, my hair growth experiment has now resulted in a mullet. I am praying through this phase. It’s taking all my strength to not call on the scissors. It’s not pretty people. Not. Pretty.

Crazy

So where have I been?

Well, dear reader…..I’ve been feeling sorry for myself.

I’m about to make some confessions here that may cause me a lot of embarrassment. Who knows, I may delete this entire post – but I feel the need to be completely honest. To purge, to confess, to get this flipping monkey off my back.

So Leigh, why are you feeling sorry for yourself?

Let’s back up a ways…..a long ways to when I was 13. I traveled with my church’s youth choir to Nashville. Never one to shy away from anything social or fun at that age, I was excited. Excited about singing in front of large groups of people, of spending the week with my very best friends and for the day trip to Opryland that was on the itinerary.

It was all going very well until the day of the theme park trip. It was hot – I wasn’t with my parents and therefore my diet consisted of Mountain Dew and doughnuts – and those two things combined didn’t go well together and I had a little heat stroke in the middle of Opryland USA.

Mortification follows, being 13 and all.

And then suddenly, I’m convinced that I’m dying. I wasn’t, of course. I had been hydrated and treated and all was well – but I was 13 and away from home and scared senseless and I was pretty sure I was going to die. I remember kneeling over a toilet that evening with one of the chaperones holding my hair and my best friend Ashley rubbing my back and I just kept saying “I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m dying. Dead, dead, dead.”

I got home and was no better – my parents rushed me to the home of our family physician (and also dear friend) and he diagnosed me.

Official diagnosis? CRAZY.

At 13 I started having anxiety attacks and they haven’t let up since. I go through times (sometimes months) where I’m doing great – completely in control of my emotions and reactions and then WHAMMO! I’ll have a huge anxiety attack and it throws me right back into square one. Head over toilet, chanting, “Dead, dead, dead. I’m dying. I’m dead.”

Medication can help – but the medication also causes me to be lethargic, gain weight, have a general “who gives a flip” feeling about life. (Well, the one’s that control the anxiety attacks do at least.) Yet, I’m not able to get control over my emotions unless I’m on something.

I went to the doctor 10 days ago and he prescribed Buspar. So here I am, day 10 – not really sure if I feel better and just praying for some relief.

I want to be able to live my life and not worry about ridiculousness. I don’t want fear to swallow me whole. I can’t live my life worrying about things that are completely out of my control anymore.

In high school a lot of people thought I was a snot. Aloof, distant, averted all eye contact. The truth was I was terrified – and I still am. There were very few people I was comfortable around and I am still that way. Making friends and keeping friends is nearly impossible for me because of constantly being consumed by fear.

So yeah, there’s where the feeling sorry for myself enters.

I hate that I can’t be that person. That I can’t grab my own shoulders and shake some sense into me. I hate that one side of my brain knows that I’m fine while the other side of my brain is convinced I’m not. I hate not being able to enjoy life, my child, my husband, a pretty day, for fear of an anxiety attack.

I hate being afraid of being alone. Driving. Flying. Traveling far from home. Meeting new people. Etc, etc, etc. (I could go on but the list of crazy is long and honestly, quite mortifying to see all sprawled out in black and white.)

I hate all of it.

So…..if you’re the praying sort – would you say a prayer for me?

And, if you’re a crazy sort – would you share your story with me? Any of you out there dealing with this? Dealt with it? Beat it?

Leigh needs a hug. And maybe a cheese plate.

P.S. If you don't really want to talk about it in my comments section feel free to email me. leighmidd@hotmail.com

Mickey Monday (on a Tuesday)

I forgot Mickey Monday yesterday. Let’s blame it on the fact that it was an “early nap” kind of day for the Toots.

So let’s see….Day 2….

Our day started out early – we met the Mayor of Main Street, which, hello? best job ever.

Then it was off to breakfast with Cindy – who promptly commented that she “Adored” Tootsie’s bows.

Then after a quick order of cream cheese stuffed French toast and fruit Audrey started wishing…

And just like magic, her favorite princesses appeared.

After an amazing breakfast, we were off for a quick spin on everyone’s favorite flying elephant.

We hopped back on the bus to check into home #2. Our happy place. The place we live in our dreams. Animal Kingdom Lodge. We had savannah view for the first time and Audrey was mesmerized by the giraffe’s just feet from our balcony.

I don’t care if you’re 2 or 28, there is nothing more fabulous than waking up in the morning to zebra’s, antelope, water buffalo and giraffe’s hanging out right outside of your room.

We spent a lot of time just exploring our resort that afternoon. After a while we headed out to Animal Kingdom.

Had a Pizzafari.

And then saw the “Hakuna Matata” show. One of Tootsie’s personal favorites of the entire trip.

The evening was spent with Poppa at Epcot (that somehow I have NO pictures of) and I must say that Disney just isn’t Disney until my Dad arrives. He was my first “Disney buddy” and it will always be one of my favorite places to be with him.

Day 3 next Monday!

Whaaaaaaat?!

I was just doing a bit of online browsing while waiting for my husband to get home from his interminable business trip. (Yes, hello? Television Man’s employer? 8 days equals too many. Thankyouverymuch)

I stumbled upon this beauty. Cute, right? Totally.

Guess how much?

GUESS?!!

You’re never going to guess because it is ridiculous.

RiDONKulous.

Ri-diddle-ee-diculous.

Can you tell it’s 1:15 in the morning?

It’s $265!!!!!

Two hundred and sixty five American dollars.

For a baby dress.

That looks like something I could get at TJ Maxx n’ More for $19.99!

A dress that will be puked on. Pooped on. Pee’d on.

Baby’s don’t CARE that it’s Dolce & Gabana people – they care that when it needs to come out it comes out.

Do people really spend this much on baby clothes? I mean…are people this dense??

I sit and stare at this little pink number and wonder if I HAD that much money if I would spend it on a baby sundress……

And then I remember sweet potato puree puke and say with absolute certainty – not in a million years.

9 years

*Be ye warned….more sentimentality lies within this post*

So….I’ve always loved you.

From the time I was 15 and I told you “Je t’aime mon cheri” because I thought I was clever.

And when you proposed to me a short 3 years later? When we were TOTALLY old enough to get married, right? Well, I loved you a LOT then.

I loved you with all of my heart when we got married a year later and we moved into our little house on Hawkins Drive. When we had zero money and ate LOTS of ramen noodles.

I love you at the beach.

I love to do silly things with you that we have no business doing but we ROCK at. (Insert sarcasm here)

I love Bob shows with you.

I love to watch you run.

I loved watching you with our niece when she was first born.

And 9 days after that I loved knowing I was pregnant with our baby.

But then she showed up and I knew….

I knew that I really, really loved you.

Happy anniversary my boy! 9 years down, 80 more to go.

Yo Snow!

Dear Audrey Laine,

There is nothing…

Better….

Than….

You…..

(And your rolled up pajama pants under your Snow White skirt, you trying to put on your Buzz Lightyear watch, you wearing plastic high heels, you taking your Daddy to the ball, your tiny gap toothed smile and the way you curtsy. There is nothing better than you.)

A Mickey Monday...(Day One)

*I’m starting something new here – Mickey Mondays. Disney is our favorite place and I want to take all of you on our trip there this past November (Audrey’s 3rd annual trip). So I’m going to share a day of our vacation with you for the next few Mondays. I hope you enjoy our magical memories.*

There are fewer places in the world that make me happier than Disney.

I know I talked about how my heart lives in Austin but Disney? Well Disney is where my inner child lives. And now we have a Tootsie and don’t get as MANY funny looks when we talk about how it is our favorite place to vacation.

There’s not much more exciting than waking up at 3:30 in the morning and heading to the airport for the vacation we have waited all year for.

And suddenly, we’re there – we’re in a place where alligators play the banjo down the sidewalks of our hotel.

And we’re just a bus ride away from walking right down the middle of Main Street USA. Where fairy tales are real and you can take a peek inside a castle anytime you like.

Or say your favorite piggy-tailed beauty wants to meet a magical mouse before lunch? Well of course you can – because you’re in Disney.

Then we can head off for lunch in England because we’re all in the mood for a little fish and chips. (And the Television Man is always up for trying something new. Blech!)

And then after a short nap back at the resort, what’s a better way to end the day than with a spin on a golden carousel?

Stay tuned for Day Two of our trip next Monday.

Fat

Dear Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies packaged in "100 calorie packs",

Just because there are only two of you per package does not mean that I will not automatically grab 2-3 packages to eat in one sitting. So you should really change the name of your product to "100 calorie packs if you stop eating after ONE, Leigh! So just have one. Or none. Or don't even buy these at all!"

Dear Rold Gold Cheddar Mini Twists sitting in my pantry,

I know that you are there, please stop calling my name. I'm not even hungry yet your delicious cheddar coating is calling to me. Why did you make me buy two bags of you when I was at the store? Just because you were on sale 2/$4 does not mean that I needed two of you. Please leave me alone.

Dear Russell Stovers box of chocolates my Television Man bought me for Valentines,

I don't even like the flavors that are left in you, so NO I do NOT have to eat you. Stop telling me I do. I do not enjoy the maple filling. I don't think anyone enjoys the maple filling. I think Russell Stover's puts the maple filled chocolates in the box just to prove how much of a glutton we all really are. "I didn't even like that, yet I ate it. Why? Because it was coated in chocolate. And we all know if it's coated in chocolate, it must be eaten."

Dear Leigh,

I know that you are 28 years old and you have never had to diet - but sweetheart, the time has come. You're not that metabolic freak you were in high school. So please, step away from the junk food. Immediately. The muffin top is turning into a whole other thing completely. A cannoli top? Perhaps a cream filled eclair? Whatever it is, it is not cute and your big butt is headed to the beach in 2 1/2 months. Let's not scare the whales, mmmkay?

The post in which I go all sentimental...

The nearness of Valentine’s Day and my 9 year wedding anniversary has me thinking about this man that I love so much. The man that has been in my life since I was 15 years old when he asked me to “go out” with him. We’re a rare story, the Television Man and I. Not many high school sweethearts end up together for the long run – but we’ve proven to be the exception to that rule.

The Television Man is kind. He’s the kind of man that makes a friend wherever he goes. He’s never met a stranger and he’s not afraid to be the “new guy”. He’s funny and sarcastic and fun to be around. He can make anyone feel comfortable in any situation and he’s not afraid to be the rear end of the joke. In fact, he makes himself the joke a lot.

He loves things with a passion. If he loves something he loves it completely, overwhelmingly and obsessively. Whether it is his favorite vacation spot or me and the Toots – if he loves something no one has any doubt that he does.

He is my exact opposite and exactly the man I need in my life. While I would be happy to stay at home and worry all the time he’s always on the go and he has no idea what it means to worry or be anxious. God definitely knew what he was doing when he gave me the Television Man. He saves me from being a hermit.

He thinks I’m beautiful. I can have on no makeup and my hair can be absolutely insane and he’ll still talk about how pretty I am. He’s a little messed up that way – but it makes me feel special.

He is the most amazing Daddy in the world. I knew I loved him before we had Toots but the past 2 ½ years have proven how much I adore him. He loves her more than anything in the world. My husband doesn’t cry but just the sight of Tootsie-Dee in striped footy pajamas can bring tears to his eyes. He’s the kind of Daddy every child should be blessed with. He isn’t afraid to be silly with her. They have the most in depth conversations and her favorite times are her “dates” with Daddy.

He works hard so that I can be home with our baby girl. Even on the days he feels awful or he’s absolutely exhausted he goes to work and works hard just so I can be here with our small person every day. His work ethic and dedication is the example of what all men should be.

I love you, Television Man. Thank you for being mine.

(You would totally be the perfect man if you would just turn your shirts right side out when you put them in the laundry basket and if you would PLEASE stop leaving your toenails on the night stand. These are the two things that keep you on the same level as the rest of us.)

Alive!

Dear tens of you that visit a day,

Please don't stop visiting! I haven't disappeared! My internet went kaput and I've had anxiety for days until The Television Man fixed it tonight.

Regular Tootsie-Dee posting and Motherhood Musings will resume shortly.

Until then, here's Toots strapped to a rocket....

Losing my mind?

So I am pretty sure I am teetering on a very thin line between sane and insane.

Because of a two year old. This may or may not be the reason I haven't blogged in a few days. My sanity is entirely questionable right now.

Let me first say this: I have NO IDEA how mothers of multiples do it – or even mothers of many small children younger than 5. To these women I bow down in admiration because MY small person is making me absolutely. insane.

I am also PRETTY sure she hates me – because what other reason would there be for her to yell at me to get out of her room or to run into her playroom, slam the door and tell me to just leave her alone?

Oh yes, I cannot WAIT until she’s 13.

Now that I think of it, maybe that’s what I should start doing. I am going to close my door every time she frustrates me and tell her to just LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

Totally mature and effective parenting, no?

No?

Dang.

Also, the constant repetition. “Mommy, can I have a cookie?” “No cookie Audrey, you just had (Fill in the Blank)” “But a cookie? Can I have a cookie? I want a cookie? Is there a cookie I can have? Could you get me a cookie? I want a cookie. Please? See Momma? I’m asking nice. I want a cookie. A cookie? Yes???”

My right eyelid twitches a lot. I’m slightly worried I may be losing my mind.

I love her SO MUCH. I just have absolutely no idea what to do with her.

In all seriousness though, I feel pretty lost. I am extremely consistent, I try to deal with her as kindly as possible while still being stern and, you know, a PARENT – yet nothing seems to be working.

Help? Advice? Words of encouragement?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

P.S. I am also TOTALLY bummed because my hair WILL NOT DO what my hairdresser got it to do last Thursday so I just look like a big hot mess. I am a messy, insane woman. Hot.

Random Randomness

Warning! This post is chock full of absolutely nothing. There is no substance here. So if you are looking for some bits of wisdom to guide you through your day, well, you’re out of luck. (Of course, this blog has absolutely no wise bits, so maybe you already knew what you were getting into when you surfed over to my neck of the web.)

Ahem….

We celebrated Granny’s birthday last week. Here’s Granny with her two girls. They sure do love her and so do we. Michael and I are so thankful for her, she really is one of the grandmother’s people write stories about. She loves her girls so much and she gives and gives and gives. We wish we could give to her all that she has given to us – but until we can do that we just want her to know how MUCH we love her.

Now…on to some serious foolishness.

I got my hair did today. Just a bit of a trim because, if you remember – I’m growing this hot mess out. So my hairdresser just thinned me out and messed me up. She said until it gets longer I’m just going to have to be messy. Ya dig? No?

So…hard….for….me. Step away from the flat iron, Leigh….just step away. (Side note: new shirt, Target, SEVEN BUCKS! How do I love thee, Target 75% off rack? It gives the illusion that I do not have a muffin top. SCORE.)

Audrey decided I needed a little ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ so as you’re looking at these pictures imagine “I do not LIKE DEM green eggs and ham. Not in a BOX or in a FOX!” I love her.

Next…I found this beauty in the back of my bathroom cabinet this morning. How exciting! A full bottle of body wash! I have no idea when I got it or who got it for me but this……this I know – it’s like bathing in a bottle of Elizabeth Arden old lady perfume. ACK! GAG!! I could not finish my shower soon enough to keep the fumes from burning my nose hairs off.

So….Enchanted Orchid from Bath and Body Works, you get a big fat thumbs down. “Elusive violets and delicate white irises” my hiney. (Like the Dora toothbrush holder? I love living with a two year old.)

And last…but certainly not least. I drove past a shopping strip in my town this afternoon, only to discover that a new tax service shop has opened. “Mo Money Taxes”. Seriously? Mo Money Taxes? Right, because the people I want handling my taxes and whether or not I get audited by the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT are people who can’t take the time to spell out MORE. That ‘RE’ must just be too time consuming.